Epitome
Katie Anderton
Charlie’s head broke the surface of the water and the world above was set on fire. Desperate screams and bodies, countless bodies, lay facedown in the water, the back of their heads telling him more than he wished to know. He felt himself get pulled under the waves again, a tide ripping him from the air above. He sunk lower, his chest heaving and convulsing without releasing the air he trapped inside his lungs. He kicked off his shoes and forcefully flapped his arms to help him rise again above the sea, to keep himself from dying at the hands of the ocean. Once he felt cool air touch his lips he let out a long breath and paddled blindly, feeling around for anything to hang on to. The water was lit from the burning ship that crackled and crumbled, its massive hull breaking apart and falling with a treacherous splash. At long last he found a plank of wood to drag his upper body onto, and he lay there for what seemed like only a moment before a child’s scream sent a pulse of horror up his spine. Charlie spun wildly, searching for the child, but his eyes would not focus on anything but the still bodies and the flames that roared in the midst of the sea. The child screamed again, and finally he saw the chestnut hair bobbing about, clutching in her hand a stuffed doll, grasping at a woman in a life vest who was terribly still. He threw himself into the water and swam towards the kid, praying he got there before the force of the waves did. He was maybe five feet away when another part of the ship fell with a loud snap and landed between Charlie and the little girl, making it impossible to reach her. Swearing loudly, he dove under the water, towards where the child had been and opened his eyes, ignoring the sting of the salt. He caught a glimpse of dark hair descending quickly into the depths below and pushed through the water and the wreckage to reach her. His heart trembled as he grasped onto her small hand and swam towards the flickering light above. When they reached the top, exhaustion overcame Charlie while the small girl coughed and spluttered the water from her throat. He found another piece of wood to lay them both upon, and finally able to rest, stared at the sky with the little girl in his arms as they drifted further and further into the quiet unknown.
Hours seemed to pass by as the stars sparkled in the unknown, far away from this earth, winking at him from another universe. He looked at the girl who was still fast asleep and clutching his arm. She couldn't have been any more than six years old, so tiny next to him on the bobbing wood that served as a raft. He hadn't a clue what her name was, most likely the daughter of one of the wealthy passengers aboard The Louise who had thought she was there for a brief holiday. Charlie’s mind wandered to the days aboard the ship before the attack, how endless they seemed in the basking sunlight, swabbing the deck while the moon shone and the other youth who worked the ship on summers sang folk songs from home. He wondered whether any of the boys had escaped as he had, for he had seen no sign of them amidst the wreckage. The girl awoke with a start, her eyes wide in fright.
“It’s alright,” Charlie soothed as the girl scrambled away from him, rocking the large plank dangerously. She started to cry, her small face scrunching up while fat tears streamed down and dripped from her chin. Charlie tried again.
“What’s your name little one?” He asked, attempting a smile. The girl wiped her nose messily and continued to wail even louder than before, her cries sounding foreign to the calm of the water and the stillness of the air. Charlie searched his pockets, hoping to find the tiny silver bell he had been given only the day before by one of the passengers, a token for his good service. His hand closed around it and he pulled it out triumphantly, proceeding to display it to the small child.
“Look here,” he said and moved the bell so it sounded its sweet little chime, fortunately catching the attention of the girl. He held it out to her and, delicately, she took it from him and gave it a ring.
“What’s your name?” He tried again. Her eyes, which were trained on the bell, moved to study Charlie distrustfully.
“Jane.” She replied in a whisper, and moved her interest back to its previous entertainment. Satisfied and believing that to be an exemplary achievement for the time being, Charlie decided to turn his attention to the horizon, squinting his eyes against the blazing sun. He sat, unmoving, the length of time unbeknownst to him, for who could measure a day that passed with no food to quench the roar in his stomach, no water to soothe the burn in his throat, no shade to shield his skin from the heat, no clock to tick and tock its way into his mind which wondered so feverently, what was the time? He sat as Jane cried and played and sang and moved about restlessly as any child would do when faced with the terrible likeness of boredom. She soon grew fond of her companion, once she realized Charlie was as lost as she, and asked him questions about himself to keep her own little mind entertained.
“How old are you Charlie.” Was her first question.
“I’m fourteen.” He replied, happy to oblige the conversation. Jane had opened her mouth to speak again when Charlie sat up straight and stared hard into the distance, his eyes trained on something that was not at first present.
“Jane, look there.” He said pointing towards something far into the ocean. It became clearer as the rocking of the waves took them closer towards what appeared to be land. Perhaps a beach or some port that could take them in, thought Charlie, trying not to let his hope rise too high in case of disappointment. It took awhile, and the sky began to darken by the time they had drifted close enough to what Charlie saw was an island of some sort, with trees lining a ways behind the shore where soft sand was sure to meet them.
“Can you swim?” Charlie asked and mentally kicked himself. Of course she couldn’t swim he had already known that. Jane shook her head. Charlie jumped from the makeshift raft and began paddling behind it, pushing Jane closer towards the shore, ignoring the pangs of hunger in his stomach and the chill of the water. Before long, they were close enough to the crashing of the waves for Jane to hold on to Charlie while he swam ashore, pulling the plank of wood behind him. They walked up the beach, enjoying the pleasant feel of sand squish between their tired toes, looking more like a rugged pair of wet rats than humans. Exhaustion took hold of the two fragile bodies and they collapsed in a heap before they could reach the shoreline. Jane snuggled close to her new friend, having left all notions of distrust behind her, and Charlie, who was too in shock from the experience he had endured to think clearly, decided that sleep was the only possible course of action that made any sense at all. The two new friends closed their eyes and drifted into darkness, the lull of the ocean singing to them in their final moments of consciousness.
“Bloody pirates.” Charlie thought as soon as he awoke. His dreams had been filled with them. The sight of their unwashed clothes, the desperation that tormented their eyes as they set fire to The Louise. Nothing, not even the screams of the women and children deterring them from the gold and treasure they so treacherously claimed.
His clothes had dried during the warm night and his curls were stiff from the salt of the ocean. Jane stirred beside him, her once expensive silk dress torn and covered in sand, her chestnut locks ragged, in her hand she clutched the tiny silver bell he had given her. Charlie had never resented the rich, for he considered his life to be considerably fortunate as well. He spent his summers with them, cleaning their rooms, bringing them food, being tipped generously when he stumbled upon the men laughing gaily with one another. Once, when Charlie was but ten years old, a wealthy landlord had let him puff a cuban cigar with him on the deck of the ship. He felt sorry for the child beside him, who had been ripped so suddenly from a world of pleasantries and introduced to hunger, pain and loneliness. Tears built around the corners of his eyes at the terror that rose in his gut. He missed his mom and her sweet lilac scent, he was scared and terribly in need of food, and how could he take care of a child when he himself was still a child? The tears fell now, as dew droplets sometimes do from the stem of flowers, and he let them go, needing for at least a moment to not be strong, to cry for just a little longer before Jane awoke.
The sun was rising slowly and the sand shone orange from its low hanging rays. It was then that across the stretch of the beach that curved like the crest of the moon in its crescent form he saw a figure stumbled from the edge of the trees and down the beach, into the water. The person stood, arms outstretched to the sky, wailing a lonely cry that shook Charlie from his trance. He swept Jane up in one movement and walked as quietly as he could, his feet slipping as they gave out beneath him after every step, until finally he found refuge behind the tree. Jane had woken when he pulled her from the comfort of the shore and stared at him frightfully, her eyes a question waiting to be answered. Charlie put a finger to his lips and pointed at the figure who still stood alone, the waves crashing about them, their arms still reaching towards the heavens that denied them. Jane nodded, understanding dawning on her small face and began inching behind the tree, moving forward without warning while keeping cover behind the safety of the forest. Charlie followed, for he to wanted to know the identity of the person in the water. They had reached a spot just behind the man, as Charlie concluded he was indeed a young man, who seemed to be dressed in splendor, equally as torn and battered as his own clothes and Jane’s dress. With a start, Charlie recognized him, not by name, but his clothes stirred a recent memory from the ship. A woman with dark hair being led down the ballroom of the ship that Charlie had spent hours sweeping and washing with the other boys, the man who was now in the water had stood waiting by a priest. Charlie remembered the tears of joy glistening in this man's eyes as his future bride floated towards him, encased in white silk that fluttered about her. Charlie remembered standing in the back of the ballroom, in awe, for he had never seen a wedding so close or half so elegant, even wondering as fourteen year old boys rarely do if his own wedding would be anything as grand a statement as this, for he could never have dreamed it to be so. Charlie turned to Jane and whispered,
“Stay here, don’t come out until I tell you it’s safe, okay?” Jane shook her head and grabbed hold of his hand, pulling him forward towards the man whose arms had lowered to his side in defeat, his chin to his chest, his eyes to the ground. Charlie approached carefully and let out a cough. The young man spun wildly around, his face so full of terror Charlie immediately stepped back and put his other hand up to shield Jane. The man stepped from the waves slowly, bewilderment etched into every line on his face, a small smile forming on his chapped lips.
“Are.. are you from the ship?” He asked, his voice cracking. Charlie nodded and let his hand drop to his side.
“I’m Charlie, I was one of the crew. Who are you?” The young man ran a hand through his mussed hair, his eyes rimmed with red and frowned.
“I was supposed to be married. No, I was married.” Charlie felt his heart sink. So his bride had not made it. Tears fell heavily from the man’s eyes but he took no notice of them, instead staring at something over Charlie’s shoulder, seeing something that was no longer there.
“She called me Sammy.” He whispered, still not looking at Charlie. “No one ever called me Sammy it was always Sam or Samuel.” Charlie didn’t move and let the man, Sam, ramble on about his lost love. They must have stood for an hour while the day grew hotter and his words became less and less coherent. Finally Jane tugged on Charlie’s hands and pointed towards the forest. Food, Charlie thought, we need food.
“Sam,” he said getting the heartbroken man’s attention. “I’m going to the forest to find something to eat, you stay here and make a shelter.” Sam nodded thoughtfully and walked towards the forest. Charlie followed, his hand still clutching onto Jane’s, who hadn’t uttered a word since Charlie spoke to Sam.
“Wait on the beach for me, I don’t know what’s in there.” He said to her, motioning toward the forest. She nodded unhappily, obviously not pleased to be left alone with a man who had just lost the love of his life. Charlie bent down and hugged her tightly. He had never had a younger sister but felt protective over Jane, which was a hopeful feeling in the midst of such chaos. When we get out of here, he thought to himself, I’ll take care of her. He left her then, playing in the sand, and went to the trees in hopes of finding any sort of food. His search was a failed venture as the island was as barren as it was small, containing only thorned plants of unnatural stature and palm trees that swayed, full of nothing but the air that flowed through them. It begun to turn dark and Charlie was worried about Jane, though ashamed of returning empty handed, he made his way back to the shore where Sam had propped some branches against a thicker tree, providing some shelter from the night. There were a couple logs surrounding a pit where Sam was trying to start a flame, without success, while Jane leaned against one of the logs, staring idly at the struggling young man. Sam heard Charlie and turned with a small smile.
“I brought your girl up here, I hope you don’t mind.” Charlie smiled at Jane and shook his head.
“Thank you Sam.” He said and took a seat on the other log as Sam turned back around to his work. At long last their new companion gave up, throwing the rocks he had been striking together down the beach and falling back with a sigh.
“Have you ever had your heart broken kid?” Sam said, not looking at Charlie.
“No.” He responded thoughtfully. Sam turned to him.
“But you’ve lost someone important I’ll wager.” He said motioning to Jane. “You’ve been toting around that doll there quite delicately.” Something in his words made Charlie stop, and his memory stirred. His mind flashed to the water, her chestnut hair falling further and further into the darkness of the ocean, deeper and deeper until he could no longer see her curls billowing out above her. He remembered his lungs screaming for air as he watched dumbstruck, the child vanishing from sight, and swam towards the surface once again. He saw the plank of wood he had laid upon and the doll that he clasped in his hand, so tightly his knuckles were turning white, the name Jane stitched on the bottom of its torn dress. Charlie turned his head in horror and looked beside him, fearing what he already knew to be true in his heart. There, propped against the log was a stuffed doll, it’s dress torn but the name stitched into the dress still visible.
“No.” Charlie whispered, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the tiny silver bell, his heart pounding hard and his breath shortening. The world tipped and collapsed beneath his feet. He felt Sam crouch next to him and shake his arm, mumbling incoherently something comforting, something that didn’t matter.
“Jane, no, JANE.” Charlie screamed, his throat burning as tears flowed, making tracks in the grime covering his cheeks. He had been talking to her, caring for her as though she were his family, loving her as though she had been his own kid sister. Sam, who was much larger than Charlie, lifted him in his arms and laid him under the measly shelter he had put together, sitting then beside him and patting his shoulder. Charlie lay there, until the stars fell from the sky in his eyes. Sam had left some time ago, a prisoner of his own delirium, and waited for the world to end. The pain in Charlie’s chest crushed him, but he gathered the energy to pick himself up from the bed of palm trees and go back to the logs they had gathered around the attempted fire. He picked up the doll, no, he picked up Jane and walked to the beach where he sat with her in his arms, the hunger he had felt no longer cut into him, nor did the exhaustion feel quite so heavy. In fact he felt peaceful as the night crashed about him and the waves settled themselves around his feet. Swallow me up, Charlie thought to himself, swallow me up and devour me whole. He let himself fall to the side and put his blonde curls on the sand, savoring the way the shore gave into his touch. He closed his eyes.
The next morning Charlie did not open them, nor did he wake when the sun fell again the next night, nor did he arise when the stars cried out for him the night after that. He was, after fourteen years, asleep in the heavens, his Jane tucked in the safety of his arms never again to drift away, for he was eternally, the epitome of peace.